The Children

"I want my mommy!"

"I wanna watch Finding Nemo!"

"I don't like Jell-o! I want ice cream!"

Instead of being grateful for being rescued, the annoying little prick Rostes children would not stop whining about their mommies and material possesions. They couldn't wait ten seconds before reverting back to their greedy American middle-class selves.

"You'll eat Jell-O, or I'll kill you!" Stubb roared.

Michelle drew her shotgun on the hulking cook. "Try it," she said cooly.

Border Trash, a heretofore silent character, came in with a small pistachio ice cream cone. "I was able to scrounge this together," he said as he handed it to one of the kids.

"I want Rocky Road!" one of the kids screamed.

"I want Chocolate Chip!" another whined.

"I want Cherry Ripple!" another bitched.

Border Trash walked off, sighing angrily. He threw his cone to the ground in disgust.

Tim took out his earplugs as he walked away from the children, then turned to Dundee.

"Well, Major," he said to his commander, "Are you going back now that you've got what you came for?"

Dundee stared thoughtfully into the distance. "Everything points to that old man talking straight," he said thoughtfully. "Potts is half-convinced. Me, I'm not at all convinced, but what the hell, we need to get an action scene into the story."

"Did it ever occur to you," Tim asked the Major, "that the Apache gave you what he wanted because he intended to take it back again."

"Tim," Dundee said, "I want you to send two of your best men - the Gorches, maybe - with Sergeant Cullen to escort those kids back to Fort Benlin. Oh, and while they're there, maybe they can see if Captain Waller's woken up from his coma yet."

Tim chuckled slightly. "We'll still outnumber you, Groggy," he said.

"You surely will, Tim," Dundee replied. "Now do as you're told."

"Yes, sir." Tim paused. "But only Until The Apache Is Taken Or Destroyed."

At this, Tim walked off.

"I want my Britney Spears CD!" the eldest Rostes kid screamed.

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!!!" Stubb roared.

Dundee then turned away from this; he couldn't stand it. "Sergeant Kimmel," he called to his subordinate.

Dundee's explodey subordinate walked up. "Sir?"

"I want you to take the helicopter and scout the area across the river," Dundee instructed. "If you see anything suspicious, start firing."

"Yes, sir," Kimmel called. She saluted and walked off.

As the Rostes kids continued to scream and bitch behind him, Dundee looked off into the distance, towards the river crossing. Unbeknownst to him, staring back at him were the eyes of his archenemy, Sierra Charriba. The stage was set for an epic turkey day showdown - and I don't mean the Detroit-Atlanta football game, that's for sure.